


Across the Night

by Tinytokki



Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [7]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ (Band) Are Pirates, Action/Adventure, Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Backstory, Best Friends, Childhood Memories, Coming of Age, Complicated Relationships, Disobeying Orders, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Family Secrets, Fate & Destiny, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Kidnapping, Origin Story, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Personal Growth, Pirates, Repressed Memories, Series, Social Commentary, The Royal Navy, Violence, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24782542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinytokki/pseuds/Tinytokki
Summary: Seonghwa knows who he is. Or at least, he thinks he does. He convinces himself no amount of digging up the past can help him with the future, but leaving it all behind quickly becomes harder than he thought.
Series: Treasure (The Pirate Chronicles of ATEEZ) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1341256
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Mother’s Cooking

Sometimes Seonghwa’s mind was invaded by strange dreams. At least, he thought they were dreams.

There were faces and voices, images that flitted in and out of focus, sometimes nightmares that crescendoed into darkness and panic.

He always woke from those with his mother rubbing his back and singing to him.

But some time around his tenth birthday it all stopped. He sat patiently playing idly with some wooden action figures and watching Mother bake his birthday cake when she suddenly turned around and pointed her spoon at him.

“You should be starting an apprenticeship soon.”

“I should...?” Seonghwa closed his fists around the figures, hiding them from view. He was probably too old for them.

“Yes, you’re almost of age,” she tutted and guided herself into a chair opposite his. “And I’m going to retire soon.”

“Retire?” Seonghwa asked, surprised. Sure, his mother had quite a few grey hairs and struggled to get around the house sometimes, but Seonghwa couldn’t imagine her leaving her position as palace nurse. The younger prince would need her, wouldn’t he?

“The princes are almost of age as well,” she continued, answering his question before he got a chance to ask. “They won’t be needing me to look after them while they learn how to rule a kingdom.”

Seonghwa frowned. He liked it when Mother was away at work and he could play with his friends, getting into trouble climbing on the city walls and drainpipes and watching carriages and palanquins go by.

“What will I learn how to do?” He asked with a pout, fiddling with his toys under the table. The face on his pirate character had nearly rubbed off. “ _I_ don’t get to learn how to rule a kingdom.”

At this, Mother bit her lip and looked away, sighing through her nose and fetching the bowl of cake mixture. “Why don’t you learn to cook?”

She handed it to him and smacked his hand when he went to lick the spoon. Again, he pouted, but obediently stirred while she instructed over his shoulder.

He enjoyed his birthday cake even more than usual that evening, due to the small part his own hands played in creating it, and asked his mother to teach him how to make bread the next morning.

Perhaps growing up wasn’t terrible after all.

It was a bit difficult to explain to his friend Chaeyoung why he was giving his toys away to her little brother Chan while they sat on the wall and enjoyed some freshly baked bread the next week. Of course, Seonghwa kept his favourite pirate figure hidden under his pillow because even growing up couldn’t separate them.

“We can still play together, right?” Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow at him. “Because I brought these.”

She pulled a pair of guns out from her bag and Seonghwa’s jaw hit the floor.

“Father gave them to us,” she announced proudly. “They’re safe to play with, not loaded or anything, and if you think these are exciting, you should see the new one he was just issued.”

Her father, Lieutenant Park, was a naval officer who was in the local regiment but it appeared had been reassigned, and rearmed quite handsomely.

“Well,” Seonghwa drew his composure together, fully aware that Chaeyoung knew better than anyone how much he loved even the very idea of battling on a ship. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. I’ll go ask Donghyun if he’d like to join us.”

He hopped off the wall and hurried over to the door of his next door neighbour. It was Donghyun himself who answered, and he was just as eager to get in on the action.

The three of them walked towards the city centre while Chan followed behind. Seonghwa was leaving the house against express orders from his mother, but he knew by now the general timeframe of her work schedule and what she didn’t know about his afternoons wouldn’t hurt her.

“I have to grow up too, you know,” Donghyun mentioned passingly to Seonghwa. He was the oldest of them, and the quietest, probably due to his overbearing parents who took it upon themselves to mould him into the social-climbing gentleman they could never be.

“You’re practically already grown,” Seonghwa joked, his smile falling when Donghyun avoided his gaze.

“Well, it’s gotten worse. Mother and Father don’t consider art a profitable trade and encourage me to take interest in something else. If they find out where we’re going, they’ll probably confiscate my painting supplies.”

“We’ll just have to make sure they don’t find out where we’re going then.”

Their destination was the grand fountain. Imposing statues at various levels spilled water into the magnificent basin and the children easily climbed over the edge and splashed around in mock battle without any trouble from the authorities.

Even Seonghwa would usually refuse to participate in such risky play, but there was no guard here to turn them out, and the fountain would be emptied come winter.

The capital city of Doljeon was too busy to care about four children roughhousing in the grand fountain and for the half hour they risked it, they weren’t bothered.

When Chaeyoung pretended to fire her gun at him and he threw himself back into the water, thoroughly soaking himself, Seonghwa figured he’d had enough.

The other three followed his lead when he climbed out and pulled a bath towel off a nearby clothesline to dry himself off.

“What if the owner comes out and finds wet towels?” Chan questioned nervously, shaking droplets out of his hair. He was only three years younger than the rest, but they were nearing apprenticeship age and he was not, which made him practically an infant in their eyes.

“Hope that a rain cloud covers our tracks,” Seonghwa laughed, slinging the towel back over the line and readjusting the clothespins.

Donghyun had gone quiet again and when Seonghwa followed his eyes, he quickly learned why.

A poster was pasted to the wall of the shop opposite them. The great artist Kwangsuk, coming to paint the royal portrait, was also looking for an apprentice here in Doljeon.

Seonghwa could see the longing in Donghyun’s eyes and pulled the poster off the wall to inspect more closely.

“Is this the same Kwangsuk who painted all the great lords and officers?” He asked rhetorically, smiling fondly as Donghyun could only nod in his starstruck state.

“Ooh! Maybe we should ask him to paint our family when father becomes a war hero!” Chaeyoung gasped, elbowing Chan until his attention was also on the sheet.

Seonghwa smiled at their confidence. Lieutenant Park was no doubt a great man, but they weren’t currently at war for him to make such an impression.

But Donghyun, on the other hand...

“When are the royal family sitting for it? Is it a public event?” He squinted at the print on the bottom of the page and found the time and location.

“Tomorrow evening, the palace,” he sighed when he found it. It would be preposterously difficult to find a way in, especially to do so without being seen by Mother. “Let’s do it.”

Donghyun blinked at him dubiously.

“You’d attempt to sneak into the palace? For me?”

“I don’t see any other option,” Seonghwa shrugged as if it were nothing. “If your parents won’t let you apply for his apprenticeship, you’ll just have to find another way. And this looks like the way right here.”

“Besides!” Chan piped up. “We’re your friends.”

And so it was settled.

When they reached their road, Seonghwa reluctantly relinquished his gun, fantasising the rest of the evening about becoming an admiral’s steward and cooking on a real frigate with a real gun in his holster.

When he kissed his mother goodnight and pulled the covers up to his chin, the gravity of his promise began to weigh on him.

They needed a plan for tomorrow or they were toast. Plain and simple.

He tossed and turned but nothing came to mind and eventually he gave in to sleep.

Seonghwa awoke from a nightmare that night with a tear-streaked face and shakily sang to himself on his own. He was nearly grown, which meant he should handle his fears himself. He didn’t need Mother rubbing his back anymore.

Perhaps growing up was harder than he thought.


	2. Doljeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seonghwa sighed and flopped into the chair. He was in for the scolding of his life.

Up until this point in his life, Seonghwa had always been considered a model child, at least by those who didn’t know about his afternoon exploits in the city.

He was well-behaved, intelligent, and all around an excellent choice in companionship.

But he was risking it all for a single chance at success that wasn’t even his.

“It will be fine,” he whispered to himself, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. “No one will notice a thing.”

Mother was still at the palace while the sun was setting and the royal painting was beginning, and right now she was the greatest threat to Seonghwa’s plan.

They had it all figured out. Chan was staying home to cover for Chaeyoung’s absence, and Donghyun’s parents were out at some social event cozying up to lords and noblemen.

Seonghwa’s mother was the foremost obstacle, and if she spotted them in the Great Hall, it was over.

The trio met and silently made their way into town. The fountain wasn’t running at the moment with the bright pink and violet painted across the sky indicating the quick arrival of nighttime, but the rest of Doljeon was alive.

The market smelled like springtime. Fresh fruits in the stalls, bouquets in the flower stands, the newest fashion styles displayed in shop windows. Seonghwa’s gaze lingered on a stuffed rabbit toy before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

Palace infiltration. A very grown-up thing.

“Where’s that servant entrance you were talking about?” Chaeyoung whispered, poking him in the arm and stopping to look up at the formidable palace gates.

The iron was moulded in a beautifully delicate shape, but the gate was connected to the famous stone wall, imbued with all kinds of traditional symbols of power and patrolled continuously by the palace guards.

“Um... I think it’s this way,” Seonghwa gulped and broke off to the side, following a shaded side path around the side of the complex.

“Here we are,” he sighed when they were about halfway.

“But...” Donghyun gave him a look. “I thought you said the side entrance takes you  _ into _ the palace!”

“I haven’t actually been there myself!” Seonghwa hissed back, stepping back to get a look at the palace through the plum blossom trees.

“There is an entrance!” Chaeyoung pointed out excitedly, grabbing Seonghwa’s hand and moving him so he was pointing to it. “You just have to get into the courtyard... over the wall.”

The wall wasn’t excessively tall, only about the size of a grown adult male, probably because the ancient kings who built it wanted their glorious palace to be visible.

The three stood there in contemplative silence and tried to contrive a solution to their problem.

“How do you think we’re doing on time?” Seonghwa timidly asked.

“He should be done in the next five to ten minutes,” Donghyun reported from experience. “Assuming he started on time and the princes sat still.”

“I’ve got it!” Chaeyoung suddenly yelled, quieting to a whisper when hushed. “I’ll boost you two over the wall. You’ll have to leave me here, but I’ll wait here until you’re finished in case you need help getting back over.”

“But I’m stronger,” Seonghwa pouted. “Let me do the boosting.”

“Well, I’m taller,” Chaeyoung shot back and Seonghwa couldn’t help but stick out his tongue at the unnecessary brag. “And besides, this was your idea. You’ve got to help Donghyun get the artist’s attention.”

“ _Master _ artist,” Donghyun corrected quickly, earning an eye roll. “Alright, let’s go.”

Chaeyoung was both strong and tall enough to boost both boys over the wall, squeezing Seonghwa’s hand once for luck before he disappeared to the other side.

“Quickly!” Seonghwa urged Donghyun forward and into the servants’ entrance just as a pair of guards rounded the corner.

They hadn’t been seen.

“If you haven’t been here before, how are you supposed to know where the Great Hall is?” Donghyun asked, a logical concern, but Seonghwa shushed him and listened carefully to the surrounding noises before pulling him to one direction.

“Listen for the audience.”

“Courtiers!” Donghyun gasped in realisation. “Wherever they are, the royal family is. And wherever the royal family is, Master Kwangsuk is.”

“Have you got your painting?” Seonghwa asked as they moved quickly past some kitchen workers. It was probably beneficial that they looked like a pair of faceless servant boys. 

Donghyun nodded and clutched his canvas tighter. It was small, but it was his best work yet and if anything was going to impress the master, this would be it.

They waited in a grand hall for the session to be finished and Seonghwa couldn’t help but look around in awe. The ceilings were high and vaulted, ornately decorated with so many meaningful tiles of various colours that he could stare for hours at the stories they told without getting bored.

When he peeked into the throne room, his gaze landed not on the pillars or the gold overlays but the family sitting there in their most regal attire, posing for the master. The younger prince, the one who was Seonghwa’s age, wasn’t present. He wondered in passing how he could miss such an important event.

There was still something familiar in their faces, and though Seonghwa had never seen them before in person, he felt that he knew them.

A moment later, Master Kwangsuk stood and showed them his painting, and then once the impressive portrait was taken to be displayed and the customary farewells had been finished, he packed up his art supplies and walked towards the pair.

“Now’s your chance!” Seonghwa whispered, excited, and pushed Donghyun in the direction of the older man.

Startled, Donghyun failed to control his momentum and went barrelling into the artist, brushes and paint cans rolling every which way.

“I’m so sorry!” He stuttered, scrambling to help pick things up, and blushing when Kwangsuk’s eyes fell on his own painting, mixed up with the other materials.

“Well, this isn’t mine,” The artist hummed knowingly, glancing it over before handing it back to the boy and standing to leave.

Uh oh.

Donghyun was missing his chance...

“It-It’s a self portrait!” Donghyun called after him, following him a few steps until he turned around for a second look.

“Indeed,” Kwangsuk admitted, tilting his head and observing the painting more shrewdly. “The lighting is so weak, it’s quite unconventional...”

“I painted it in the dark,” Donghyun admitted, a bit more defensively than he meant to. “My parents don’t approve, I have to work at night.”

Kwangsuk looked up from the portrait to its artist. 

“I’ve been entertaining potential apprentices all day,” he admitted. “I had yet to see anything particularly meaningful until your portrait. What do you say to calling on your parents and changing their minds?”

Donghyun looked so happy Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile and clap his hands, before noticing the royal family exiting the throne room with his mother in tow.

Quickly, he ducked behind a curtain. 

It was probably his cue to leave. Donghyun was in Kwangsuk’s care now and Chaeyoung was still waiting at the wall.

Without incident, he made his way back, climbing some crates stacked near the inside of the wall and sliding down the tiles that adorned the top. 

“How did it go?” Chaeyoung whispered, helping him down. 

“They’re going to convince his parents!” Seonghwa laughed, taking her hands in his and spinning them around. “There’s no way they’ll refuse when the most esteemed artist in the country is vouching for him!”

They walked home together the long way, hyperactive and full of energy from their thrilling adventure.

When Seonghwa said his goodbyes and let himself into the house, he was shocked to see his mother had apparently beat him.

“Oh! Mother...” he laughed awkwardly, closing the door behind him. 

“Don’t bother with excuses, I saw Donghyun,” she said sharply, kicking out the seat across from her and motioning him to sit. “You do everything together.”

Seonghwa sighed and flopped into the chair. He was in for the scolding of his life.

“Now that you’ve been to the palace, I can’t put off telling you any longer.”

“Telling me... what?”

“Sit down. There’s something you should know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been ages without updating this one, but don’t worry it’ll pick up momentum soon. It’s going to be one of the more exciting spinoffs actually but shh you didn’t hear that from me... Leave some love and have a nice day :)


	3. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days blurred together. From the moment the morning tutor left to the moment Mother returned from work, Seonghwa dropped his perfect façade and tried to be himself. He wasn’t really sure who he was now, with his honest work on one side and his shrouded lineage on the other.

“It all began when I was hired on as Prince Junhee’s nurse years ago,” Mother began. Seonghwa tucked up his legs and tried to get comfortable in the chair. This would likely be a long storytime.

“As you can imagine, the process was grueling and intense and I was trained even from adolescence as a courtier to care for small children in the hopes that I could land the job,” she went on with a sigh. “I was, of course, ecstatic when I did, and even more so when I met the handsome, noble, powerful man that was— _is_ — the King.”

Here she glanced down at her lap and shook her head before finding her voice again. “It was just one of those things, a moment you wish later that you could change, but at the time it occurred I had no control. My heart drowned out my head and behind the Queen’s back, the King and I grew close. Too close. Two children were born to him the same year, one was the Queen’s and one was mine. But instead of making me a concubine, the King decided instead that to keep me quiet he would send me and my child— _his_ child— here to live in the city, strangers to him even as I raised the princes and maintained a professional relationship with the royals. To this day, the Queen knows nothing.”

Seonghwa caught his breath at the implication of all this. Some of the details were beyond his understanding but it sounded like what Mother was saying was that the King was his father.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she snorted, cracking a small smile. “That this explains why I never speak of your father, and that all this means you’re part royalty.”

Again she could only shake her head and avoid his gaze, tears welling in her eyes and scaring Seonghwa. 

“But it gets worse,” she confessed. “While I nursed both infant sons through five years, I began to notice a difference. My boy was deformed, misshapen, poor and neglected while we starved on the King’s meagre pay. The Queen’s second son was lovely, sweet, and perfect in every way. I tried so hard to move on and to just love my son but every day I saw that little prince and his beautiful face and jealousy stirred within me.” She gave him a fragile smile but her voice cracked as she went on. “So I stole him, and I raised him as my own, and now here he sits at my kitchen table when he should be sitting on a throne.”

Somewhere along the way, Seonghwa’s eyes filled with tears as well and a strange sort of calm settled on him. 

This woman was not his mother.

“Yes, Seonghwa,” came the tortured whisper. “The boy they call the second prince is my child, and you, sweet boy... are hers.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but not a word would leave his lips. Memories swirled around in his head.

The beautiful room where he grew up, Mother feeding and teaching him, the older boy that came and played sometimes, the smell of perfume and the taste of delicacies...

He _had_ grown up in the palace, not just a fancier house that he had later left. That boy _had_ been his brother and moving to another house hadn’t been a move at all... it had been a _kidnapping_.

Seonghwa tried to breathe through the shock, getting to his feet and going to the window, leaning on the frame for support. The distant silhouette of the palace was bold against the stars and his head began to pound from the ferocity of flowing memories.

“You know this already, don’t you?” Mother’s voice floated after him. 

But she _wasn’t_ his mother, and everything was all _wrong_.

The feel of satin and the twinkle of crystals in his deepest most turbulent dreams was real. 

“Why?” He finally uttered, pure raw emotion coursing through him. “And why tell me now?”

Mother scoffed and came to stand beside him, reaching out to touch his face but thinking better of it when he flinched away.

“ _I_ was there for your first steps and your first words. _I_ was the one who fed you, changed you, put you to sleep, taught you everything you know. Why _shouldn’t_ I be your mother?”

“It was wrong!” Seonghwa yelled through tears, moving even farther away from her as everything unravelled— past, present, and future dashed to smithereens all around him. 

“I know!” She shot back before closing her eyes and dropping her head into her hands. “I knew even as I switched you, while I lured you away to my house and every day since when the royal family went on with their lives unknowing and I realised the consequences of what I’d done.”

Her voice was softer now, and Seonghwa clung to the hope that she was repentant, that she could set things right somehow, but she continued to speak and dash his hopes with every word.

“I’ve made a grave mistake. There I was, idolising you and wishing you were mine instead, but despite all I had already done for you, there was something I could never teach you. I had no idea how to train a prince. What I failed to realise was that even with you as my son, I could never be uplifted to a higher status or lifestyle. Swapping the two of you did nothing at all but make your life worse. My poor, sweet Seonghwa... you don’t know how to do _anything_.”

Seonghwa raked his hands through his hair and fought back tears even harder. He could be preparing to help lead a kingdom right now, and instead he had run wild through the city for five years behind his Mother’s back. She hardly knew him, no matter how much she had done to make him hers.

“I-I’ve failed you as a mother, thinking your perfect looks and sweet voice could survive in this harsh world of work and _more work_ and death. You’re completely unprepared and it’s no one’s fault but my own. To be disciplined in the palace and then expected to live as a peasant... it’s wrong and I don’t know why it took me so long to confess it to you but now that I’ve told you the truth, I see only one way forward.”

Seonghwa held his breath and finally turned his head to look at her. Her face was stone cold.

“You can never be a prince again. You must learn a trade and forget where you came from.”

“ _What?_ ” He cried. “And refuse everything that is rightfully mine?”

She had washed away his early years with constant lies and constant manipulation, and now she expected him to continue on as if nothing was wrong between them?

“No!” He refused. “No, I have to go to the palace, I have to see the King. Maybe my true family will recognise me, five years isn’t that long—”

“They will not,” Mother insisted without so much as an eyelash out of place. She was completely certain. “In all this time, they have never once realised that their second son is the wrong child. No matter how deformed he is, no matter how ill suited for princehood, your real parents have never so much as suspected that he was switched. Royalty spending time raising their children is simply not the custom. You have no claim to the throne, going there would be a waste of time. No, you must never visit the palace again.”

Seonghwa couldn’t believe it. With all the lies she had told him, surely this was just another, some desperate ploy to keep him from running and leaving her.

“I’m to go on living a lie then?” He asked hoarsely, feeling so very beyond his years.

“Seonghwa,” Mother sniffled and finally drew him in close. “This is your life. I love you, don’t you know?”

Out of force of habit, he let her embrace him. When the alien feeling inside grew too strong, he pulled away and walked outside, sinking onto the garden bench and trying to regain control of himself.

Mother followed him out at a distance, probably to make sure he hadn’t fled, before handing him a slice of bread left over from dinner and retreating to the house.

Seonghwa needed space to work through everything he’d just been told.

As much as he tried to hold it back, the floodgates overruled him and he ended up trying and failing to rub the wetness off his face. 

He couldn’t help but feel like his life was poisoned now.

Every feathery light kiss to heal a bloody scrape, every tune he learned to sing himself to sleep, even the knowledge that baked the bread in his hands— it all came from her.

And it seemed there was no escape.

He clutched the bread so tight it left a hand print and finally let the tears roll down his cheeks.

There was one more thing his mother could teach him.

When the candlelight in the window was snuffed out, Seonghwa peeked in to check that his mother had gone to bed and then made his way into the kitchen.

He could dig up the past or make his own way in the world. And deciding to make his own way, he began with making his own bread. He followed the recipe he’d learned the week after his birthday and kneaded all his frustrations into that dough.

The moon was obscured by the time he was done, but still feeling awake, he snuck out to Chaeyoung’s house and rapped on her window until she came out to meet him.

“What’s this?” She yawned, accepting the bread as they walked down to the fountain together.

“I just felt lonely,” Seonghwa shrugged, trying to disguise his shaking voice. He needed someone who wasn’t his mother to talk to, even if it had nothing to do with his recent discovery.

“In the middle of the night?” She laughed, taking a bite and making a sound of satisfaction. “This is still warm, did you just bake it?”

Seonghwa nodded and sat on the lip of the fountain, pulling off his shoes and dangling his feet in the water. “I couldn’t sleep,” he told her, and it was more or less true. “But I suppose Chan and Donghyun will be jealous we came here without them, won’t they?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Chan anything,” Chaeyoung snorted, brushing off the crumbs into the water and joining him. “And Donghyun is busy, remember?”

Seonghwa sighed wistfully. If only there was some master that he could impress that would sweep him away from all this confusion with Mother. “I don’t blame him,” he said quietly, sitting back to look at the stars that came in and out of focus between wisps of cloud. “We both have to grow up soon, too.”

“And will you be a baker?” Chaeyoung inquired, looking as if she wanted more bread.

“Maybe,” Seonghwa couldn’t help but smile at the way she was looking at him. “Apparently it’s one thing I can do.”

“You’re _great_ at it,” Chaeyoung insisted and nudged him playfully. “You could probably expand your repertoire to cook as well.”

Seonghwa wanted to roll his eyes at the big word but decided to take the focus off of himself for awhile. “What will you do when you grow up?”

She was silent for awhile, looking at the faint glow that came from the palace lights.

“You know, I think it would be wonderful to be the Queen,” she decided. “Living in the lap of luxury seems much more appealing than it did last week, now that I’ve been on the palace grounds.”

Seonghwa furrowed his brow. “But I thought you wanted to be a soldier?”

“Maybe I’ll just do both,” Chaeyoung shot back, sticking her nose in the air. “Riding into battle with a crown on your head is a very glorious profession.”

Even while he laughed along, Seonghwa began to wonder if Mother had fancied herself a Queen too and the creeping thoughts brought his mood down again.

“So what is your tutor teaching you these days?” He asked as he pushed his legs back and forth through the water, making ripples that drifted lazily to the other end of the grand fountain.

In typical Chaeyoung fashion, she rambled on and on about school and her various interests and soon Seonghwa was feeling better, content to chat candidly until the pair of them became sleepy.

Eternally grateful for her unwitting encouragement, Seonghwa walked his friend home and bid her goodnight before climbing into bed himself and forgetting everything for a few hours.

The next day brought an uncomfortable atmosphere but Mother agreed to teach him to make dumplings. The next week it was streusel bread.

By age twelve he had mastered baking. Donghyun had moved away to Namhae to live and work as an artist with master Kwangsuk. Young Chan was enrolled in boarding school, and his and Chaeyoung’s father was deployed to the colonies, though she stayed behind in Doljeon to train to be a lady in waiting.

Seonghwa didn’t really know what that meant, but it was a job in the palace with the Queen that required combat knowledge for security purposes, so he approved. As much as she wanted to sneak him in to see the palace with her on days when she was working, he always refused. He didn’t need to catch any glimpses of the royal family— _his_ family.

More and more he began to feel lonely, and when Chaeyoung was busy he had no one to talk to other than the bread. 

He decided to move on to cooking.

Mother was tired and worn down most days and by the time Seonghwa was fourteen, he had learned all of her favourite dishes and perfected them.

Days blurred together. From the moment the morning tutor left to the moment Mother returned from work, Seonghwa dropped his perfect façade and tried to be himself. He wasn’t really sure who he was now, with his honest work on one side and his shrouded lineage on the other.

Wandering the streets gave him no answers, although a cute little stray cat followed him around from time to time, and cleaning the house until it was spotless didn’t help either.

“Do you want to belong somewhere, son?"

Seonghwa looked up from his bowl of stew at the guest sitting at their table. 

His name was Mr. Hwang and he was an acquaintance of Mother’s.

“Yes,” he admitted, gauging Mother’s reaction. “It would be nice to get out of the city.”

Mr. Hwang was apparently a cooper who worked on a merchant ship, making the barrels they transported goods in. “My wife is terrified of water so she won’t join me, and I don’t know the first thing about food,” he proposed, sitting back and motioning to his empty plate in approval.

Seonghwa had cooked the lettuce wrapped fish with expensive ingredients from Kon. Only the best for Mother’s guests, because by sixteen he knew they were all apprenticeship candidates. 

Even better, he was resourceful enough to save the bones and make broth out of them, lopping any other fish remains into a spicy soup. He was the perfect candidate for a seafaring culinary position. And even better it was away from the palace, away from Doljeon, away from Mother.

“How would you like to cook for me, and learn to be a cooper as well? You’ll be able to see the world.”

That last line was dangled tantalisingly in front of him, and without a second thought, Seonghwa agreed.

When he looked out his window at the palace that night, shutting out Mother and her anxious prattling, he didn’t feel crushing doubt for once. He felt hope.

And if he had his wish, he would never see that palace again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! A big timeskip happened and you might be wondering why, but stay tuned and you'll see ;) Thanks for reading and as always don't forget to kudos and comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Across the Night! This is Seonghwa's backstory for the main Treasure series and he has a wild ride ahead so be sure to subscribe, kudos, and leave comments here or my twt (tiny_tokki) whatever you prefer!


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